


The Snake Prince

by runicsecret



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Agnes Nutter's Prophecies, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Aziraphale is the prince, Based on the frog prince, Crowley is the snake, Crowley wakes up naked, Falling In Love, Frog Prince AU, I really like blending dark haired and red haired crowley, M/M, anathema device - Freeform, god is the Queen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-06-27 21:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicsecret/pseuds/runicsecret
Summary: AU based on the fairy tale "The Frog Prince".Prince Aziraphale is a bit of a stuck up prince who does things his own way and hasn't found a suitor that is meant for him. That is until he finds a snake in his lap that is supposed to be a man, maybe?  And when your mother is the Queen who wants you to settle down so you can eventually reign, how do you move forward?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this a while with the help of some friends, so I greatly appreciate their input in this all! I have plans for a continuation if you all want to see it.

Prince Aziraphale was not spoiled in the conventional sense of the word. No, the prince instead was spoiled by fine foods and even finer drink. So much so, in fact, that his company would be based off of who could bring him the finer treats from beyond the kingdom’s reaches and those who failed to impress him would be frowned upon. 

He was often called the ‘Angelic Prince’ due to his blonde curls, fair skin, and cherubic face. To those who didn’t know him, he dressed simply in order to look modest to his subjects, in creams and blues with few ornate pieces that did not already belong to his family. To those who did know him, it was more so that he just didn’t see the point in getting all done up in something beyond simple fashion. Also, what he saved from his wardrobe budget he got to put towards his true love. 

Books.

Many books.

Enough books to fill two whole rooms in the castle. Despite the overabundance of books, he still knew when one of his books had been touched, let alone moved. This included the castle staff, who were expressly forbidden from touching the shelves and dusting them, instead keeping only to the tables and other surfaces that they could more easily access. Prince Aziraphale would, instead, dress in older, yet still fashionable clothes to go and clean his libraries by hand himself. 

Other royalty visiting the castle would make fun of him, commenting on how spoiled he was to live a life of luxury, just him and his books. His mother, the Queen, tried to peel him away to get him to talk to and court some individual and secure the throne for the future, but no such luck. He was simply more entertained by the words on the page that were carefully crafted than the ones spoken aloud by his peers. 

One particular afternoon, after dodging another court session, book in hand, he thumbed to the page he last remembered reading. He may have read later, but falling asleep with a book does not mean that you remember that moment, so bookmarks were rarely to be trusted. He set off down the path through the Royal Garden, called Eden on the yearly invitations for their garden party, reading and trusting his feet to take him down the right path away from the ruckus of the castle. The garden walls, these large hedges that were well maintained, passed him by and yet he showed no signs of stopping. 

As the path turned a bit rougher, mostly from not being finished with the traditional brick used, Aziraphale realized he may have gone quite a bit farther than intended. He took note of the page he was one and shut the book, realizing he was outside of Eden and smiled. None of the other royalty would venture out this far without an escort, which also meant that Aziraphale would hear them coming from quite a way aways. 

He smiled at the thought and continued to walk, enjoying the sounds of the wood. No longer was he just walking and reading, but he was searching for a place to sit and continue his reading, maybe catch a nice nap in the fresh air. Sure, his parents would lose it considering they were not very trusting of the forest and even less so to let their only son go out and just wander around like this. 

As he got to a lovely little clearing, he walked over to a large tree. There was not a formal bench, but that was fine, ultimately, He swept back his coattails and settled himself against the tree trunk, bringing a leg up to rest his book on. He opened back to the page he had closed on and picked back up, getting through another decent section before drifting off. 

The next thing he remembered was a heavy weight over his leg and coming up his chest. Aziraphale’s blue eyes snapped open and only saw two yellow snake eyes staring back at him. 

“What?” he exclaimed, hand quickly grabbing the snake and throwing it to the side against another tree. There shouldn’t be a snake here, it was too cold!

“Ouch!” the prince could have sworn he heard. Aziraphale screwed his eyes tight and took a deep breath. 

“Ya know, you could have really hurt me?” the snake said, tongue flicking out and tickling the back of Aziraphale’s hand. 

“No, no, you should not be here, you should not be talking,” the prince said, opening his eyes and looking down.

“Well, I’m right ‘ere, sssso may assss well get over it,” the snake hissed. 

“Why are you here? This area has never had a snake problem!”

“I haven’t been a ssssnake that long,” he spoke thoughtfully, seeming to try and move and close to the prince as possible. The prince looked down and gazed at the snake. He didn’t seem like a garden snake, with his lovely blend of red and black colors along with bright golden eyes. The poor thing probably needed heat with how it was getting close to him, but he couldn’t exactly take it to the palace lest Lady Dagon decided it would be a nice addition to her menagerie.

“What do you mean long?” Aziraphale questioned. He moved to take his waistcoat off and place it around the snake, as though the critter had shoulders. 

“Thank-you. And I mean jusst that. I was on my way to visssit the royal family when my horsse was ssspooked. Then next thing I know, I’m awake as a thisss.”

The snake settles down into the coat, as if contented. Aziraphale looks down at him and smiles, it wouldn’t be bad to have a talking pet, in all honesty. 

“Well, I am from there, so one way or another you made it?” the prince said with a twinge of hope, “Why were you going to see them?”

“Some sort of courting sssession my uncle set up,” the snake said, flippantly. 

“Ahh, yes, my dear boy, those are miserable,” the prince nodded sagely.

“And to some ssstuffy prince of all thingsss! I’m jussst a sssimple lord, and would like to remain that way.”

“Oh, the prince isn’t quite all that stuffy. He quite feels the same way about the rest of the court as well. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind just going and being a lord somewhere,” hummed the blonde thoughtfully. “But how do we get you to not be a snake?”

“Yesss, something was muttered about love, but I wasssn’t sure if I was meant to find love or they were doing it to manipulate love,” the snake said, flattening his head to be more level with his body rather than just upright. Aziraphale thought it looked quite like a sigh as we watched it occur. “Thisss would all be fine, if I hadn’t already been a cold perssson, then turn me into a sssnake and all I want to do is fall asssleep.”

“Shall we go and get your warm then?” he questioned with a tilt of his head and a gesture of his hand towards the castle. The sun would start going down then, which would make out here even worse for the poor creature. 

“Certainly.”

Prince Aziraphale stood and dusted himself off and the snake started to slither out of the jacket draped over him. 

“No, my dear boy, that won’t do. Here,” he tutted while he bent down and scooped up the snake with no fear, keeping him in the coat. 

“Are you not afraid?” the snake asked as he was lifted up from the ground. 

“Nonsense, I doubt you could hurt a fly,” the prince said with a sweet smile. The snake looked at him in the eyes, establishing just how strange this man was. 

“Then here” he said, toungue tickling the blonde’s cheek as he went past to his shoulder, “let me dissstribute some of the weight a bit better.”

The prince nodded, goosebumps appearing along his neck and into the curve of his shoulder. He deftly crouched down and grabbed the book, tucking it under his arm before setting off down the dirt path he had traveled a few hours earlier. 

“And, my good lord, what is your name?”

“Lord Crowley,” he hissed quite proudly, “ and who do I have the pleasure of giving my thanks to?”

“Prince Aziraphale.”

The snake nodded sagely, as though that made sense before stopping and turning his face to the prince and just simply hissing, tongue hitting his jaw line and making the prince giggle. 

“I’m sssorry? Prince Asssiraphale?” came the sudden incredulity. 

“Very much so. Or, as you said, ‘that stuffy prince’.”

“I’m sssorry, your highnesss,” the snake hissed lowly. 

“No, no, please don’t start the ‘your highness’ nonsense now. I simply wanted to be honest.”

So they walked in silence back to the entrance of Eden. Aziraphale stopped before entering the garden, hearing voices from within. He stepped to the side and crouched down, as though that was really going to hide his voice. 

“Do you think you could coil yourself around my arm? I’d rather not have you get taken by one of the others,” he stated as he moved his coat around a bit. 

The snake nodded and began to shift around, wrapping himself around the prince’s forearm, which through the thin fabric was warm. He let out a rather hissy sigh, happy that at least the warmth wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. He was soon draped over in the prince’s coat, which smelled of lilies and leather, which he thought was an oddly specific and strange combination. 

“There. Now, I’ll just walk and read as I normally do, attempt to avoid Prince Gabriel and Beezlebub along with their cohort, and get you back to the room,” Aziraphale said, shifting the coat to cover as much of the snake as possible. Crowley tensed around him and he couldn’t be sure if it was in thanks or in response to hearing his cousin’s names spoken. He flipped his book open, listened for voices once again, and started off in the opposite direction of Eden then they were. Each time he heard one of this cousin’s talk particularly loud, he felt the snake tense up which made him feel saddened and guilty and the stress Crowley was going through. 

He only had to stop once to shift his coat back into place, “Almost there, my dear boy.”

That alone was soothing to Crowley. He relaxed at the motion, being sure to not fall off Prince Aziraphale’s arm. He felt jostling from what he could only assume was going up steps of some kind, and then suddenly could hear footfalls against concrete rather than the crunch of stone or dull thud of brick. Then some more jostling of the coat as Aziraphale bounced up a longer set of stairs.

“Oh, Aziraphale,” said a feminine voice, but one that was more mature, “You weren’t at dinner.”

“Ah, I went for a walk mother, got lost in my book, you know me!” the prince said with only a slight hesitation. 

“Right. Then I suppose I will have the cooks send you up some supper. I expect you at breakfast, perhaps Lord Crowley will have finally arrived by then.”   
“Oh? Yes, Lord Crowley, right, um, well I shall go get washed up then and perhaps turn in for the night early after some food. Good-night, mother.”

Crowley couldn’t help but let out a soft hiss and tense up a bit at the mention of his name. Would the Queen send someone out to look for him if he did not appear tomorrow? Or would the prince break down and try to explain to his mother how this snake was suddenly a nobleman? 

“Good-night, Aziraphale.”

With that, the two were off again, down the hallway in a rushed, yet dignified pace to get to Aziraphale’s room. When Crowley finally heard the click of a door handle followed by the latch of a lock he let out a breath. 

“That wasss rather exhilarating,” he said, poking his head out from under the coat. His tongue flicked out, smelling the room about him. It was all liliac, just about, only some books and also ink. 

“Quite, I don’t think I’ve ever hidden something from my mother like that,” the prince said, but after a pause continued, “No, I did tell her that I simply misplaced my royal sword rather than giving it to a couple in need.”

“You what?” the snake hissed, clearly scandalized, as they walked to the bed.

“Well, I gave it away. You see, they were going to be living on the streets after it was found out she was with child despite not being married and being servants, and I couldn’t bear to think of them defenseless,” he rationalized. 

He held his arm out for Crowley to slid on to the bed, which he did, but not without making more ruckus, “But your royal sword?”

“Well, its not like anyone would believe it was a royal sword. There, you should be quite warm now,” Aziraphale commented as he continued to pile on blankets. 

“It isss quite comfortable,” Crowley said, watching the prince walk back to a desk to place the book down. “Why do you avoid your cousssinsss?”

“Why did you tense up anytime they spoke?”

“Fair enough. Why isss your mother reaching ssso far down the royalty ladder for a match?” Crowley probbed next. He was genuinely curious. He never had any illusion that he was the first choice for the prince, but now he wanted to understand his real reasoning as they got to know one another better. 

“Oh, I’m quite picky. No one has been okay with my tendency to just go off on my own or has brought me a nice enough pastery, or has even thought to talk to be about books. It is always quite about how I benefit them,” he said with a huff as he sat in a chair in the corner of the room. 

“Then I ssshall be on my way once we fix thisss,” the snake said with a hint of solemnity. 

“No, please don’t. I think I’d like to know you more,” a light knock on the door, “That will be food, duck down a bit.”

And with that there was a bit of commotion outside, the rolling of a cart into the room, and the prince assuring them he was feeling just fine, he would place the cart outside when he was finished. The door clicked and Crowley heard the cart roll some more, presumably closer to the bed. 

“I don’t know what of this spread you would eat as a human or a snake, but do pick was you would like,” Aziraphale offered, pulling the cover of the tray. 

“My, my, I could get ussed to a prince ssserving me,” the snake hissed. He settled right next to the prince and looked at the food, realizing that he was either not hungry as a snake or couldn’t work of an appetite for the things here. “I’m not hungry, don’t eat much you know, but I wouldn’t mind some tea.”

Aziraphale smiled and picked up a tea cup and brought it to the snake, who tentatively smelled it with his tongue. Then he began to take small sips, not sure of the reaction that may occur with tea and a snake body. 

“I normally drink wine,” Crowley offered, “but tea like this is quite nice.”

“I agree, my lord,” Aziraphale said, before quickly turning red, “I should act the part if I’m serving you.”

“Ahh, but you also need to eat, your highness,” Crowley said equally playful. He brought his tail around the back of the prince into an almost hug and rested his black and red head upon the man’s lap. He could still watch Aziraphale just fine and took great pleasure in the bright smile this earned him before the prince began to eat the food, savoring every bite. 

Which would be incredibly hard for him to see if he was a man, he suddenly determined. Each morsel was appreciated. The prince’s lips seemed to know just how to move to get the most out of each type of food and his jaw, well, if Crowley wasn’t currently a snake that could make an enormous amount of space in his mouth, he would be desperate to know how those jaw muscles worked. 

“Why are you so tense, my dear boy?” asked the prince, dabbing at the corner of his lip. It brought Crowley back to the present and also in awe of how this man had recognized his mood so easily. Whereas others might just think him angry, he seemed to just recognize stress, which is quite a bit even in snake body. 

“Oh, jussst thinking,” he said picking his head back up. He looked at the platter and realized that he had just watched the prince eat all that food with no qualms and no sense of getting bored. 

“I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

Aziraphale stood and began to walk the cart back out the door, once again locking it behind him. Once back to the bed, rather than sit upon it Aziraphale chose to kneel and look at Crowley more carefully. In response, Crowley flicked his tongue out and tickled the prince’s nose.

“Pleassse don’t arressst me when I turn back for that,” he said with a chuckle. Aziraphale laughed as well. 

“No, I don’t think I’ll do that at all, my dear,” he said, tentatively reaching a hand out, which Crowley rose to meet. It was not necessarily sensual, but it was intimate to be touched like this. Particularly because Crowley never really sought after companionship, he was quite the loner who enjoyed listening to his music, working with the animals, or simply wandering. He could put that aside for more of this touch though, a touch that invoked fear and peace at the same time, that would make his skin tingle if he wasn’t currently a snake, and left a trail of warmth behind it that was pure adoration. 

“You are a magnificent creature,” the prince whispered. 

“Just wait to see me asss human,” Crowley responded, leaning into his touch. 

“I hope that the wait is not long. For now, though I am going to go change out of these clothes. You may have the bed tonight.”

And with that, the touch was vacated and Crowley was left to watch the Angelic Prince leave to change. “Where will you sleep?”

“I don’t sleep much, so I will probably sit in my chair and read until I fall asleep for a bit,” he responded from behind a changing screen. 

“No, we can’t have that. I will not take a prince’s bed from him.”

“Yes, you shall. You need the warmth.”

Crowley suddenly felt bold, “Then sit in the bed with me, just as we were while you were eating, and read until you sleep.”

“Oh, my dear, I just don’t know if that is appropriate,” Aziraphale said, poking his head out around the screen, which also meant that Crowley could see his bare shoulders. He looked like porcelain and all the snake wanted was to see more. “You are supposed to be courting me.”

“Yes, my prince, I am. Before you said no one took an interest in you. I want to do better and I’d love to hear what you are reading,” Crowley pleaded. 

“This still wouldn’t be something my mother would approve of.”

“That your courter is a sssnake? We are passst approval, angel, and if you don’t at least sssit in this bed I will ssslither on to the marble floor and freessse myself to death.”

“Angel?”

“Do you not like it? I sssort of got caught up,” Crowley hissed burrowing his head in case the prince came back to see him. 

“Oh no, it is quite nice to not be referred to as your highness or prince,” he responded, his voice light and obviously smiling, “and if you are going to be that dramatic about it then fine. But I’ll be above the covers.”

Crowley picked his head back up, feeling a sense of triumph wash over him. Then, his Angelic Prince walked out in a long and simple gauze sleeping gown that was bright white. As Aziraphale walked closer he could make out light blue accents around the neckline and hem, which he tried not to stare at too much because all he could think about was how much he wanted to touch that pearlescent skin and how damned he was to not have hands right now. Somehow Crowley also missed how many curves the prince had. Most royalty was comfortable looking, Prince Gabriel and his crew were very good depictions of that, but Aziraphale was in a league all his own. He owned his curves, made them glide across the floor rather than lurch. He didn’t hide them with frills, he showed them off in simple style. Crowley was envious in a sense, considering his own body-if he got his body back. 

Aziraphale grabbed a book from his desk, different then the one he had earlier, and headed towards the bed. “No sense in trying to inform you of the story up until that point when I have another I was hoping to read.”

“That’sss very kind of you.” The snake moves completely to the other side of the bed to allow space. After some fussing with the pile of blankets and remaining covers, Aziraphale joins him and opens the book and begins to read. Crowley draws close to him, head placed on his stomach just under the book, where Aziraphale absently strokes his head in between page turns. 

And soon enough, they are both asleep, snake eventually curled upon the prince’s lap. The fell to the side as the prince fell asleep, snoring ever so softly. 

What neither expected was for Crowley the snake to turn back into Lord Crowley the human throughout the night. Probably something to do with body heat and love, but with curses who knows. 

What is known is that when a maid came into wake the prince for the day, she found the odd scene of a tall and lanky man naked and entangled with the prince, covers askew. She stepped backwards out of the room, closing the door softly behind her and dashed to the Queen’s quarters, feeling as though this was far above any maid’s pay to deal with. And at first the Queen did not believe her, but upon her cheeks flushing at the description of what she had seen, with the red and black haired man with his arm held tight around Prince Aziraphale, his face buried against his shoulder, and his lean body pulled tight against the other’s side, the Queen shifted her stance. She paused her morning routine and went to go check on her son for herself. 

“Aziraphale?” she called as she opened the door and started to peer in. As she then did get into the room she saw the two exactly as the maid described. “Oh, Lord Crowley, I see you found us!”

Aziraphale was the first to awaken, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and slowly realizing the fact that there was a weight on his body and his thin nightgown was twisted quite a bit more than it normally would be. He turned to look and see what was causing the weight and found a man that he did not recognize. What was more was that this man was quite bare chested and wrapped around him. 

“Mother! I can,” he started, “No I really can’t.”

“Hmm?’ the red head said, finally stirring. He lazily drew his hand over Aziraphale soft front and propped himself up on his elbows. “Oh, your majesty, good morning.”

Crowley then looked rather pointedly at Prince Aziraphale with a smirk as he tried to reach for one of the many blankets to cover himself up with. He was sure the prince could feel his arousal in the morning, something Crowley hadn’t really experienced since his teenage years, but didn’t think that it would be preferred for the Queen to see that. Aziraphale’s quick assistance and tug at the blanket further over him seemed to prove his theory correct. 

“Thank you for the invitation, your majesty, but I must say, your son here saved my life,” Crowley began, gazing once again at Aziraphale. 

“Oh? I do not know if that forgives this transgression, Lord Crowley.”

“Well, you see I was not quite a man when we went to sleep last night. I was cursed into an animal form. So it is quite unexpected to wake up as a man this morning,” he offered. 

“Also mother, this means he currently has no clothes,” Aziraphale said. 

“I’ll send by my butler in a bit. I expect you both down at breakfast,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She turned to leave, “I do hope this means you won’t be difficult this time, Aziraphale.”

With that, she was out the door, leaving the two men to breath and sigh of relief followed by a fit of giggles. Crowley because he basically just told the Queen to get him clothes and Aziraphale because he had no other reaction for the absurdity of waking up next to a man after falling asleep next to a snake. As they calmed down, the prince looked to Crowley and traced his face. 

“Your skin is far smoother than I expected,” he breathed.

“I’ll keep that in mind and neglect my skin routine,” Crowley jested in return. 

“You shall do nothing of the sort. I just expected, well, far more scale like.”

“Should I hiss more?”

“No, at least,” Aziraphale trailed off searching the other man’s face before landing on his eyes, “how are your eyes nearly the same?” 

Crowley blinked slowly before scrambling out of the bed, nudity forgotten, and running over to the small vanity. He pried open each eye, looking closely and muttering no under his breath over and over again. From the bed, Aziraphale could see his back rise and lower faster and faster. 

He calmly got out of the bed and walked over to the red and black-haired man, placing a hand on the small of his back. “You are okay.”

That didn’t change much of how Crowley was reacting to the change in his eyes, so Aziraphale decided to take a more forceful approach. At first his hand was slow, not sure how the taller man would really react, but as he saw tears forming in the reflection of his eyes Aziraphale resolutely grabbed the taller man’s shoulder and spun him against the wall. His other hand moved to tug Crowley’s arm away from his face while he used his hips to pin him at a third point. 

“Your eyes are beautiful,” Prince Aziraphale started up on to his toes, “you are beautiful,” he was looking at the lord directly, “I never knew your eyes to be anything but the ones you have now. You were right, Crowley, you are a magnificent man.”

And with that the prince kissed Lord Crowley. It was cumbersome and fumbling, as neither man had much experience and one was still nearly sobbing, but if Aziraphale could swallow those sobs he would. The lord seemed more than willing to let him do that as he calmed down under the Prince’s touch and groaned. 

“You seem to like throwing me against things,” Crowley said as they broke apart. His face was a juxtaposition of tears that had run over and a cocky smirk. 

“Don’t do things that deserve to be thrown, my dear,” Aziraphale replied. His hands loosened their grips around their purchases of Crowley’s body and instead lightly dragged their way towards his bare chest. 

“That sounds like an invitation, angel,” he responded with a tilt of his hips against the light fabric of the prince’s night wear. 

“An informal one,” Aziraphale teased, pushing his hips back hard, “I’m sure mother will have the formal one drawn up by afternoon.”

And with that he walked away, making sure not to look back at the handsome man that was a snake mere hours ago and was currently a mess of himself against his wall. 

“Angel! That was, and I am, cold!” Crowley yelled playfully chasing after him. Just as he got in front of the door and Aziraphale was securely behind the dressing screen, a butler walked in. 

“Lord Crowley. Her Majesty sent me with some options for this morning until we can get a tailor here,” he said, not missing a beat or paying attention to the Prince’s stifled laughter. He laid against the chair a deep green, a black, or a navy outfit. They were all quite simple, but still fine in their materials and construction, each having accent colors in the stitching. 

“Angel, what color would best serve me here?”

“My dear, anything would look ravishing on you, but honestly you have Gabriel and his group who are all dressed in whites, blues, and beiges, then Beezlebub and her group who are in dark browns, greens, and reds.”

“Black it is.”

The butler nodded and took the two other outfits with him. Black was what Crowley wore most anyway, but typically not with deep blue stitching. As Aziraphale stepped out in a far nicer silk outfit of silver with green and blue stitching, he felt he could accept it if it meant he would accent his Angelic Prince so well. He smiled and got dressed, remembering the proclamation of the Queen and not wishing to further aggravate her. Aziraphale simply sat in a chair and read, and the butler returned with a pair of suitable shoes. 

“Ready?” he asked as the last shoe was secured. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, offering his arm. 

“So this means you aren’t going to be difficult this time?” Crowley said, mimicking the words he heard the Queen speak earlier. 

“Not for the world, my dear.”

And so they walked, arm in arm, step by step, towards the rest of their lives. 


	2. Fate Foretold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is a drama, fashion queen, but all of his pickiness brings him to the one person who gives him answers. Or more questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness this chapter did not want to happen. Or I should say the original did not want to happen. It then became this, which is a far bigger story. With like a plot and such. I hope you all still enjoy.

Six months later, and Lord Crowley’s life had become a flurry of designers, table settings, and contract negotiations. One does not simply marry into a royal family from a humble land owner apparently. The Queen had given Prince Aziraphale and himself a small respite from wedding planning from the announcement of the betrothal, instead allowing them to just spend time together in Eden or learning about one another’s responsibilities previously and how they were going to shift.

While there had been no more nights together in the Prince’s bed chamber, there had been many stolen moments in Eden and even more secluded indulgences in Prince’s vase libraries. Never anything that would harm the precious books, of course, but something that would sate their growing need to be near one another. 

And now, with a summer wedding being planned, Crowley found himself hating every option laid before him by even the finest designers in the kingdom. He wore a suit everyday and a tux at least twice a month at this point. Why should he be so dull on his wedding day? 

“Crowley?” a voice said from another section of the shop he was currently in. Despite being surrounded by mirrors and mannequins, the red and black haired man suddenly felt alive. 

“Back here, angel!”

He heard a muttering of excuse me’s and tripping over clothing stands as his love made his way back to the area he was being styled in. When Aziraphale’s blonde curls and full face appeared Crowley couldn’t hide his smile, despite the continuing revolving door of design sketches being brought out to him. 

“My dearest,” Aziraphale started and moved a hand to the small of the other man’s back, “I have the white covered as black looks rubbish on me.”

Crowley gritted his teeth, shuffling the sketches about into piles, pushing the ones with all white designs to the side, “So what do you think I should do? I’m getting married, no going to a funeral,” he says in an exasperated tone. 

“Exactly, stick out in your own way.”

“Well, black is normally that way. I doubt your mother would allow me to wear a skirt to the wedding.”

“I’m sure something could be found to be amenable, if that is what you wanted,” Aziraphale hummed. “Have them draw up some concepts for you. I’m going to the bookshop, come get me when you are done and we shall get tea.”

Crowley smiled in spite of himself. While it was stressful to the typically cool and collected half of the relationship, Aziraphale, who would want nothing more than to be left alone in the room with his books, was taking it in stride and showing off the capability that rulers seem to have beaten into them at a young age. He ran a hand through his ear length hair and picked up a sketch he kept coming back to, with incredibly tight pants and a flared coat. The neck was high and rather than the full sleeves it currently had, Crowley suddenly wondered if it could have only have one's covering part of his forearms. 

“Who is the designer of his piece?” he asked the owner of the boutique. 

“Oh, that is Miss Anathema Device. Shall I tell her you chose her design?”

“No, but is she here?”

“Ah, no, she only comes in when I need extra fitting girls.”

“Arrange for her to be here tomorrow morning. I have some alterations I wish to ask for,” Crowley said, tucking the drawing into a notebook into his bag to take with him. 

“I’m sure that I could help you with whatever you need,” the vendor tried to placate. 

“No, I can wait. I believe I have had quite enough today. My soon-to-be husband has given an idea that I believe this Miss Device can elaborate on,” he mused as he walked around the table to leave. 

He didn’t go directly to the bookshop however, knowing that the prince would want more time among the books and the people. Recently it has become a test to get to know the regular people in the town and visitors to the kingdom as much as possible, particularly as his mother posited that both the prince and Crowley as his consort would have more duties once wed. Aziraphale had explained that he felt it was his duty to understand how people lived and their needs more than those of his insular family. His mother encouraged the idea and Crowley was still unknown enough to skirt around the edges and find out different sides and report back. 

So he went off to do that, slipping into a bar for a small lunch and to listen to the latest gossip. He settled in at a small table in the middle of the room with one of the guards assigned to him, although they were dressed in plain clothes, the other two came in a while afterwards and sat near the door so they could watch the whole place for trouble. 

“I can’t believe the Queen is allowing the Crown Prince to marry a nobody,” someone nearby said quite loudly. 

“Well, not quite nobody, just not as high as Duke Beezlebub, Duchess Michael, or the Earls Sandalphon, Ligur, or Hastur,” another one retorted. 

“A common lord, land owner. Someone who lived in the middle of nowhere.”

“Perhaps they will be able to bring more economy to the kingdom?” a third voice chimed in with a tinge of hope. 

“I doubt it, probably just trying to set up their fortunes for the future so they can be set. We would have been so much better with Prince Gabriel. He understands his responsibility,” the original complainer voiced. 

Crowley had heard enough and left his lunch, leaving an appropriate amount of money on the table for the meal. He had his head cast downard, long red and black hair sweeping over his shoulders and shrouding his eyes. He had heard some rough things so far, but this was by far the harshest he had been faced with. Normally it was only questioning Crowley’s own status, not questioning Aziraphale’s capabilities or claim to the throne. He waited in the alleyway and willed his eyes to stay open and alert while breathing in and out to calm down. As his detail appeared around him he nodded.

“Let’s go find the prince.”

~`~

At dinner that evening, Crowley ate less than usual, pushing his food back and forth as he continued to hear the piercing words of the townspeople replay in his head. Aziraphale and the Queen were deep in discussion over a new text on theology they had both read, yet Aziraphale took notice. 

“Are you not feeling well, my dearest?”

“Oh, no, just not very hungry. Well, perhaps a bit stressed,” Crowley admitted, trying to come up with a story on the fly, “Meeting with the designer for a wedding outfit tomorrow and you know how rubbish I can be.”

“Nonsense. You are one of the most charming people I know, it will be fine,” Aziraphale said with an earnest smile. 

“Would you like some basic soup to help settle you, Crowley?” the Queen supported. 

“No, thank you, your majesty,” he replied to his soon to be mother-in-law. “Although, if you both don’t mind I may go to my room a bit early this evening. I’d like to write a letter to my Governor about the state of the lands and the wedding as well as perhaps make some sketches ahead of tomorrow.”

“Of course, Crowley, that is most duteous of you,” the Queen complimented. 

Aziraphale stood up and walked over to Crowley, pulling out his chair and giving him a peck on the cheek, “I’ll see you in the morning then. Please don’t fret yourself too much over all of this.”

Crowley returned the gesture and nodded before turning and walking away, hearing the queen say, “So while you two are traveling for your honeymoon, I was going to make Gabriel next in command for a bit.”

Crowley almost got sick in the hallway. Gabriel had been trying to position himself into a place of power forever from what he had gathered and saw Crowley’s existence in Aziraphale’s life as one more piece to secure that spot. He did not want to be used as a pawn like this, but he did not want to give up Aziraphale either. 

The tall man continued down the hall, head downcast as he thought through this predicament. His memory flashed back to the townspeople wishing they could have Gabriel when he suddenly found himself running into another person. 

“Forgive me, my lord,” the young woman said. Her hair was a dark chestnut color and fell in waves around her neck. She wore a pair of simple glasses and dressed in a rather ornate piece of clothing that was all a rich blue color. She carried with her none of the normal servant materials, but instead a few books and writing utensils. 

“No harm done,” the red and black haired man offered. “I was not paying attention either.”

“If there is nothing you need in the wake of my clumsiness, I will take my leave. I was summoned by my grandmother who lives in town,” she said with a slight bow.

“Of course not. Please be careful, even if the evenings are staying brighter for longer.”

He watched her go down the hall, realizing that he hadn’t seen her around before, but considering how often he tried to not be in the palace proper, it wasn’t fully surprising. Back in his room, he sat down at the desk and took out the sketch. He took another piece of lighter paper and put it over, then with a piece of charcoal began to sketch out the general shape of his thoughts, pushing all of the days nastiness away and looking forward to marrying Aziraphale. 

~`~

The next day, Lord Crowley actually awoke with purpose for the first time in a while and got dressed before the maid brought him coffee. He asked her where Aziraphale might be (the library) and picked up the cup and his dark glasses before a walk down to the royal quarters. 

“What are you down here slithering about for?” said a rough and deep voice from behind him just as he was getting to Aziraphale’s libraries. 

“Oh, you know Gabriel, just seeing the Crown Prince, here to talk about our wedding, maybe tempt him with a spot of lunch a bit later,” the lord said to the lesser prince with a slight raise of his coffee mug. Gabriel sucked his teeth in annoyance. 

“I don’t know how mother ever allowed this to happen. I mean, truly, she must realize what a bad image this puts out to the kingdom of a prince marrying what is essentially a commoner.”

“Your mother was the one who arranged my coming here to meet and court Prince Aziraphale,” Crowley replied, “or were you not quite important enough for that memo?”

Gabriel sneered and pushed past the other man, with only luck keeping the coffee from splashing on either man’s clothes.Crowley simply rolled his eyes at the suck up man, determined not to let him ruin his day today, and continued on a few doors down. He knocked on the first probable room that his angel would be in and waited for a response. 

“Next one,” he heard faintly. It was bound to happen regardless, Crowley chuckled to himself as he walked down to the following set of doors. “I heard Gabriel. You two weren’t working each other up already, right?”

Crowley placed the mug onto a side table that had been placed just for an occasion and took a deep breath of the books and leather that was so uniquely associated with Aziraphale now it was unmistakable. He practically flung himself into the adjacent chair, a leg up over the arm, head rolled backwards looking upside down at the blonde man, “Maybe. Not intentionally. He started.”

That earned him a pair of adorably pursed lips and a pair of eyes rolled in his direction. “Children,” the man muttered going back to his book. 

“Anyway,” Crowley said, ignoring the slight to his maturity, “I wanted to meet up with you before breakfast since I was going to head out right afterwards. Wedding things.”

That got Aziraphale’s attention. “On your own? With no prodding?” 

“Yes. Contrary to everyone else’s fucking -”

“Language!”

Crowley just continued on and sat up properly in the chair, “believe in this place, I want to actually marry you. And I’m not doing it as a status symbol or to take over the kingdom or to dismantle the kingdom or whatever else someone comes up with!”

“Oh, so not to steal my heart!”

“No, most certainly,” the red and black haired man paused as he replayed the blonde’s words, “that was cheating.”

“Perhaps it was just being cunning,” Aziraphale said, having walked over to his fiancee and leaned down so his forehead was resting against the other’s. With a chaste kiss Aziraphale stood back up even though Crowley groaned for more, “Go ahead of me. I want to get some of this legislative work done this morning.”

Crowley slunk off the chair and stood up, swaying his hips as he left the room and waving his hand without looking back. “Fine then, I’ll see you at dinner. Enjoy your royal duties.”

~`~

At the tailor Lord Crowley arrived, guards close behind, to find a familiar looking young woman fretting over an older woman while being chastised by the owner. 

“Miss Device! I was clear this was a professional meeting!” the gentleman tutted. 

“Yes, but the person who normally checks in on her was busy today and I wasn’t sure how long I’d be gone,” the young woman argued. 

“I will be out of the way,” the older woman waved away. 

“But I have an entire other portion of the shop to run!”

“I promise, my good sir,” Crowley said clearing his throat, “I will pay any lost business lost due to my reckless wedding requests.”

“Oh, m’lord.”

“Your highness!” 

The young woman and shopkeeper said at the same time. They seemed rather perturbed at each other over the disagreement in what to call him in addition to the extra visitor in the shop, which if Crowley was honest, pleased him to no end. 

“Just Crowley is fine,” he said with a bit of bite. 

“I see you have made your way this far, young one,” the old lady said. 

“Grandmother!” 

“What?”

“You and your gentleman have figured things out so far, and that makes me so pleased. It gives me a sense of peace if I must move on,” the old woman expanded. 

“Don’t mind her, Lord Crowley, this is why it was meant to be professional,” the shop-keep said, reaching to take his arm and lead him back to the normal table. Crowley pulled away and tilted his head up so it was obvious he was looking down at him, even from behind his glasses, but in an intimidating way more than a brutal way. 

“Please, go attend to your other customers. I shall sit here and talk with Miss Anathema?” he said, looking at the young woman who nodded, “And her very fascinating associate.” 

“But sir-”

“We will get you when necessary,” Crowley said shortly. The shop-keep walked to a different part of the store and left the three there. 

“I’m so sorry for bringing my grandmother with me, m’lord, but I just can’t-”

“Don’t bring it up any longer. Let’s go get to the table so I can show you my idea for slight alterations. You can work and I’ll speak to your grandmother?” Crowley said flippantly, almost sounding like all this was a chore. 

“Don’t pay him any mind, dear, he is enjoying this. You can call me Agnes Nutter, dear boy.”

Crowley blinked at the old lady. How did she know so much and seem to just get it? He offered his arm to Agnes as Anathema went ahead and cleared off a space on the table. Crowley made Agnes comfortable in a chair then pivoted around and pulled out his book and sketch he had made to display to Anathema. She nodded along, never judging, but instead got a whole new piece of paper prepared and set to work. Crowley thought it would be some alterations, but instead Anathema seemed to sketch out his tall and lanky build and then make the clothes fit that rather than before which was becoming a more obvious general clothing piece. 

“So you are wanting to know how much I really know?” Agnes said with a smile as he turned back around to look at her. 

“There in about,” he returned, “You seem to have conclusions that I can only hope for.”

“No, I’m afraid quite the opposite. I’m worried about the future, so I had to be sure that the two who would be most equipped to support one another would be set-up to do so.”

“The spell.”

“Hmmm, I put it into motion. Anathema there actually made the potion I threw. She is quite talented. I am just able to get glimpses of the future,” she said seemingly looking through the man before her and to her granddaughter. 

“Why not just let us meet as we normally would? Why all of that trouble?” Crowley spat, feeling the anger bubble up.

“You two would not have had time to talk. The negative forces surrounding the Prince and wanting to harm you would have been a constant barrage. This way you were able to speak and bond ahead of those forces getting a say. Now you work together against those forces rather than letting them come between you.”

Gabriel. Beezlebub. Michael. Hastur. All of the upper echelon of royalty outside of Aziraphale and the Queen. The ones who felt the Queen had controlled things too long or that Aziraphale was not suited to take over properly. 

“How do you know? Should I bring you in as a witness?”

“No, Crowley, I simply am told by the gods bit of the future to look out for. How I do it or how people react to it is then the real test,” the elderly woman smiled kindly. 

“So you have nothing else to let me know? Nothing that would protect Aziraphale?” Crowley had reevaluated many of his priorities in the past few months, primarily that his angel’s life weighed far more than his ever could, kingdom to lead or not. 

“Not now. You both seem to have it under control, Aziraphale has grown in the eyes of many of his people and you and such an unknown commodity that just allowing them to get to know you proves to be enough from what I hear from my neighbors.”

“Then stay the course we shall,” the lord said, slumping down into the chair next to Agnes. 

“Sometimes, that is the best we can hope for.”

With that, they sat in comfortable silence, watching Anathem sketch and adjust in front of them. It seemed to take hours, and with slight bits of feedback, they made a garment Crowley finally felt he would be comfortable getting married in. The two worked with the shopkeeper in finalizing fabrics, colors, and fitting schedules, which Anathema was to be included in. In fact, at this point the young woman would be there the day of the wedding and her grandmother was given an invitation as well. Crowley determined that it was one of those better to ask forgiveness than permission instances. 

~`~

Later that night in Eden, Crowley bit his lip as he looked up at the stars, Normally the smell of flowers and feels of shrubs against his hands was calming and let him clear his mind, but not tonight. He was still worried about doing the right thing, providing for Aziraphale, and ensuring that his cousins were unable to get their grimy hands on too much. He snapped back from the stars when a warm feeling enveloped his hand. 

“What is bothering you, my dear?” How stupid of a man was he to forget that he had been walking with Aziraphale and talking about tax calculations?

“I just hope I am doing the right thing.”

“You do the right thing?” Aziraphale teased.

Crowley laughed, “True. It would ruin my reputation,” he paused, “I suppose that is what I mean though. What if I am ruining your reputation? Your ability to rule?”

“Ah,” Aziraphale nodded, tugging the taller man closer to his side, “There is the thing. I am too good to rule. I would give everyone what they want, all the time. Even our enemies.”

“That seems like a good way to have peace.”

“Or as mother says, ‘Not have a kingdom’,” the blonde man said in a mock stern voice which caused Crowley to laugh. “I think that is why she is so relieved we get on. You do the bad thing, I do the good thing, we meet in the middle and maintain the balance she has done for so long.”

“Then perhaps we should go out to town together and visit the commoners? Perhaps visit some of the nearby ones as well?” he supplied, “Practice this balancing act on a smaller scale, get a feeling for traveling, and not be considered strangers by the people.”

Aziraphale stopped walking and swung himself out in front on Crowley. He smiled broadly at the other man who returned the gesture with warmth. Apparently this was one of Crowley’s better off-the cuff ideas. Who would have guessed?

With the Queen’s approval the next morning, they did two weeks of going out to various parts of town and meeting with people as the castle staff started to arrange travel. It would be short, as the wedding was not far off and both of them needed to be available. But trips over long weekend when villagers would not be working long hours and may want to come and talk to them along with leaving a day on either end to visit with the ruling Lord or Lady of the area. 

Those times proved to be some of the happiest times for both Crowley and Aziraphale, but for the final fitting before the wedding Anathema told the young lord about the passing of her grandmother, which felt like a betrayal of the gods themselves. 

Anathema did not share the pages of writings her grandmother had left behind that talked of Crowley and Aziraphale or numerous other events that apparently were to be foretold. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a plan to write their wedding and honeymoon if people like this enough and want me too, but please actually tell me to do so and not just hope I will. [Come see me on tumblr as well!](https://etienne-rune.tumblr.com/)


End file.
